SIR WILLIAM.

My friends, I'm fatisfy'd you'll all behave,
Each in his station, as I'd wish or crave.
Be ever virtuous, foon or late ye'll find
Reward and fatisfaction to your mind.

The maze of life fometimes looks dark and wild,
And aft, when hopes are highest, we're beguil'd.
Aft when we ftand on brinks of dark despair,
Some happy turn with joy difpels our care;
Now all's at rights, who fings best let me hear.

PEGGY.

When you demand I readiest should obey:
I'll fing you ane, the newest that I hae.

SANG. Tune, Corn-riggs are bony.

My Patie is a lover gay,

His mind is never muddy;

His breath is sweeter than new hay,
His face is fair and ruddy:
His shape is handsome, middle size,
He's comely in his wawking;
The fhining of his een surprize,
'Tis heaven to hear him tawking.

Laft night I met him on a bawk,
Where yellow corn was growing;
There mony a kindly word he spak,
That fet my heart a glowing:

He kifs'd, and vow'd he wad be mine,
And loo'd me best of ony;

That gars me like to fing finfyne,
O corn-riggs are bony.

}

Let

9

SIR WILLIAM.

My friends, I'm fatisfy'd, and do well believe
That, in his ftation, each will well behave:

Be ever virtuous, foon or late you'll find
Reward and fatisfaction in your mind.

The maze of life fometimes looks dark and wild,
And oft, when hopes are highest, we're beguil❜d.
And when we stand on brinks of dark despair,
Some happy turn with joy difpels our fear;
Now all's to rights, who fings best let me hear.

PEGGY.

To your command I'll firft obedience fhew,
And fing you one, the newest that I know.

SONG.

My Patie is a lover gay,

His mind is never muddy;
His breath is fweeter than new hay,
His face is fair and ruddy:
He's handsome, of a middle fize,
And graceful in his walking;

The brightness of his eyes furprize,
'Tis heaven to hear him talking.-

On a small bank last night we met,
Ripe corn all round it growing;
With look fo kind, and words so sweet,
He set my heart a glowing:

He vow'd that true he would remain,

Each rifing fear difarming;

Which makes me like to fing fince then

The corn fields are charming.

Let

Let laffes of a filly mind,

Refuse what most they're wanting; Since we for yielding were defign'd,

We chaftely should be granting: Then I'll comply and marry thee, Farewell to fears alarming; Thy pleasure shall my pleasure be While corn fields are charming.

THE END